A Twist of the Embers
by TheGryffindorKneazle
Summary: What can you do when the world needs you to sacrifice something in order to save it? Hermione makes the hardest choice of her life, letting go of the one thing she wants most. A few years later an unusual string of muggle related magical incidents will bring her face to face with the fallout of her actions. HG/HR pairing


**AN:I own nothing, though I wish I did!**

"...And they all lived happily ever after."

That was the acceptable ending everyone wanted, right? The hero would win, the villain would fall and true love would triumph. That was what small children were taught to believe, what adults spent every waking moment searching for. Wasn't that how it was supposed happen?

So why had everything gone so wrong?

She could feel the bitterness seeping deep into her chest as she carefully cut the ingredients on the table. She glanced up at the tattered book that lay open before her, double checking her actions. Never in her life had she hated the written word so much, each page mocking her in her distress. Books had for most of her existence been her best friends, giving her the answers to all the questions she sought. Not this time though. It's well-worn pages held the only possible answer, but at a terrible cost.

Why was her happy ending being ripped from her before she had even the chance to grasp it fully? With each agonizing thud of the knife blade striking the table, she knew the tears were closer to breaking free from the tight control she was desperate to maintain. Was she not fighting hard enough? Were the sacrifices she already made not enough? Why did it seem as though fate was determined to have one more, the one she promised herself she would never have to make?

The air around her was still inside the tent, her movements the only break in the monotonous silence. Outside only the darkness would be there to greet her, along with the ever present cold the nights always brought. If only that cold could reach into her chest, she thought, pouring the ingredients into the cauldron beside her. She'd welcome a frozen heart to one that was slowly breaking.

The liquid inside the cauldron let out a jarring hiss, smoke rising. Her cold hands reached for the spoon, gently stirring it contents until they returned to a mild bubbling. Her quick mind automatically turning to calculations, it wouldn't be long now until it was ready. She would give it fifteen minutes, maybe thirty at the most. Everything was coming along in the pot just as it should, no mistakes so far. Inwardly she cursed her own sense of perfection, her hopes slowly dying that the information provided in the book might be wrong. Why did this part have to be going so bloody perfectly?

A brief flash of color out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the other side of the table. There sat a small blue glass vial, its liquid contents unmoving. She felt her stomach give a little lurch. While the unfinished potion inside the caldron, she knew, would destroy her future dreams, this deceptive little bottle's liquid would wipe away even their memory. This potion would make it as if her dreams never had existed in the first place.

Staring at this harbinger of destruction of all she held dear, she began to crack. For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she would finally buckle under the pressure. Her life had been anything but simple, one dangerous situation after another. The mere idea of a simple life was something left far behind along with the distant memory of a little girl who knew nothing of the world she inhabited. For awhile she had almost convinced herself that it would all be ok. If she just kept moving one day to the next it would all be over, then she could finally have that happy ending. She bit her bottom lip to keep from dissolving into racking sobs. She was the heroine right? Heroines weren't supposed to break. They had to be as strong as the hero, maybe at times even stronger.

But what was supposed to happen when the hero was broken too?

A shuffling on the bed alerted her to the other occupant in the tent. Glancing over to the cot, she saw his shape begin to move under the blankets. He'd left the bed rarely after his injury, the venom from the snake running its course through his body. She had treated him as best she could with what she had available and the rest had been an agonizing waiting game. While the physical bite had begun to heal, she could do nothing to stop the nightmares it had triggered. It would seem tonight was to be no different. She watched as the shifting became more restless, more aggressive with each passing moment. She was already moving towards him when the first strangled "Hermione" pierced the quiet air.

His hair was already slick with sweat and clinging to his forehead as she sank slowly to the bed beside him. His cries were escalating as she calmly placed her hands on his shoulders, gently applying a little pressure, her voice carefully controlled.

"Harry, I need you to come back now. I need you to open your eyes, whatever it is you're seeing, it's not real."

She had learned long ago, the hard way, to never try to abruptly wake him. Harry had a tendency to panic, like a cornered animal when the nightmares were obtaining the upper hand. His body stopped thrashing at her gently touch. His eyelids fluttering as he fought his way back to the conscious realm, using her voice as a guide. Slowly his eyes opened, desperately attempting to make out her face. Reaching over she found his glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose, allowing his piercing green eyes to focus directly onto her warm brown ones.

"You're still here," he said hesitantly, almost as if he was afraid that if he even so much as breathed wrong she would vanish in a puff of smoke.

"I am," she responded, using the tips of her fingers to lightly brush the hair from his face.

His movements were quicker than she could have anticipated, as he sat up and hastily bundled her into his arms. Her own arms moved of their own accord, wrapping themselves instinctively around his neck. She allowed herself to press her nose into the hollow under his chin, taking a small moment to enjoy the scent of him. That sat together this way for a few minutes, waiting for his breathing to even and his muscles to relax.

"Was it one of the usual ones this time?" she asked. In the almost seven years of closeness, she could list most his nightmares in detail from memory. If she put her mind to it she could even probably catalogue their frequency and intensity just as well.

"No," she felt him shudder, as he recalled, "This time He figured it out. He figured out how important you really were, and He took you. You disappeared, and nothing I could do would bring you back. I couldn't find you."

There was no need to ask who "He" was, Voldemort was the constant shadow that hung over every aspect of their lives. The man who would stop at nothing to destroy Harry, and once that was complete turn his rampage onto the rest of the world. That lunatic was the whole reason they were here, freezing in the middle of the wilderness, during winter, with only a tent for shelter. Everyday found them searching for things, with nothing but cryptic clues and quite frankly pure dumb luck, to help them defeat him.

"It's going to be ok. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," she said softly, running her fingers up and down his back, "We are going to finish this together." Her thoughts though turned once again to the potions on the table. She had to make sure to be careful what she said, make sure she didn't let on that every word from her mouth was a half-truth. After all their years together Harry had become very adept at picking out when she was holding something back.

If he figured out now what she was planning, he would do everything in his power to stop her. She was good at magic, with her skills honed through practice and dedication. Of the two of them she was definitely smarter, but Harry had a raw instinct with his power that made him far, far stronger. She supposed that was natural, since he had spent most of the past seven years fighting to survive.

"Why don't you go clean up, you're dripping in sweat. I'll put things back together here?" she suggested as she pulled away and tilted her head indicating the bed. He stared at her a moment, then nodded. He pulled himself to his feet and began to make his way towards the temporary bathroom, but stopped. He turned around again, reaching for one of her hands that rested along the edge of the bed.

"I still have a bad feeling."

"It's alright Harry. I'll still be right here when you get out."

This seem to mollify him as he leaned down and placed a small kiss on her cheek. She waited until after he disappeared and she heard the sound of water, before getting up to attend the cauldron. Double checking the recipe, she saw the clear signs of completion. Casting a quick cooling spell, she levitated the pot and slowly poured the contents into a waiting empty vial. When she finished she reached for the other at the edge of the table and clenched them both in her hands. She knew she would have to give them to him as soon as he returned. The longer she waited the less likely she would be able to go through with this. She had only mere moments left to steel her resolve.

She had no doubt he would take them. She knew he trusted her completely, something he was willing to do with very few people. Little did he know how much she was about to violate that trust. He still wasn't aware that she had the potions book that had caused so much trouble between them last year, hidden away in the folds of her little beaded bag. No in his mind that book was still safely tucked away in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. He would never guess that she had used it to brew the contents of one of the vials in her hand.

She allowed her mind to drift back over the past years, briefly reliving all the moments that she held close to her heart. In many of them danced the green eyes of the boy in the other room. Finally they settled on one memory in particular, that of her first sight of those lovely eyes on the Hogwarts Express. The day when she had barged into an occupied cabin looking for a lost toad. He had smiled at her and for one brief moment she had finally let the nervousness in her stomach melt away. It was hard to believe that at that time she had been so full of hope for what the future would hold.

The sound of the water stopping jarred her from her quiet reminiscence. Quickly she sprang to her feet and with a quick flick of her wand put the bed back in order. Her one hand now holding both vials, shook slightly as Harry reemerged into the tent's main room. He smiled at her as he took in the now clean bed.

"Feel better?" she inquired as he went to sit on its edge.

"Much," he replied, his hand patting the spot to his side, indicating his wish for her to join him.

Slowly she approached, stopping just before him. His eye seemed to search her face before taking note of the bottles in her hand.

"What are those?" he asked with a brief tilt of his head.

"Potions," her voice felt heavy in her throat, but she managed to keep it steady, "I thought they could help you sleep. You're going to need as much rest as you can get until you get your strength back up."

"What about you? When was the last time you rested?" he quipped with a lifted brow. His hand reached out for her free one, intertwining their fingers. "How am I supposed to find these horcruxes without you if you wear yourself out."

Her heart clenched a little, and she fought the urge to fall into his touch as his thumb ran a little path along the curve of her own.

"I'll be fine a bit longer. Really I promise. I'll sleep as soon as I am sure you have gotten enough."

He looked at her carefully, almost as if he was weighing each word. If he was looking for anything, he did not find it as he shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He gently took the bottle from her, looking at each one.

"Fine as long as you promise," he said, as he swished the contents of one. "Tell me do these ones taste as bad as all the others I've had shoved down my throat over the years?"

She knew he meant it as a joke but she couldn't bring herself to laugh as she slowly nodded her head. A look of disappointment crossed his face at the lack of response to his jest as he pulled the stopper from one vial. She didn't realize she was holding her breath as she watched him put it to his lips. Every muscle in her body seemed to scream at her to reach out and smack it away. Her heartbeat sounded loudly in her ears as she watched him swallow. She needed to maintain control, this was not a time for the heart to have its way, the fate of their world depended on it. In silence she watched as the second potion quickly followed the first, and with it she felt all feeling leave her body. It was done.

The full weight of her actions seemed to rush into her thoughts at once. There would be no turning back now. Nothing she could do could take this back, and a sense of desperation hit her violently.

"Harry," she whispered, the sound something she barely recognized, "Do you remember the Yule Ball? Do you remember the moment we saw each other on the stairs?"

Harry looked at her quizzically, she could tell he was confused by the sudden question. She didn't blame him, she didn't even know why she asked it. She couldn't even really comprehend what she was saying. Her mind was now in a complete state of upheaval, as it desperately attempted to cling to anything that would tell her this plan had failed.

"Of course I do. You looked beautiful, you took my breath away," he smiled at the memory, "In fact it wasn't long after that I realized I was falling for you."

Her already frail amor cracked, and tears began to pool in the corner of her eyes. She disengaged their fingers and took a step back. She knew it was useless. That moment would soon disappear along with all the others they had created over the past three years but she found herself whispering, "Say you'll remember it, I need to hear you say you will."

At the breaking of her voice he grew alarmed, he attempted to stand but was hit by a wave of dizziness. He fell back onto the bed and shot a questioning gaze at her, his eyes wide in shock. At the now silent tears rolling down her face, he looked to the empty bottles now littering the floor.

"What did you do?" his voice coming out in gasping pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

"I'm so sorry," she rattled off.

Realization hit him in an instant, "Hermione you didn't…" He was fighting hard to stay conscious, to keep his eyes focused on her face, "We agreed, we were going to find another way. You promised."

"I know. There is no other way. I love you, but there was no other way. I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

He was desperately reaching out for her, but she moved further away. With one last grunt of effort and one last anguished glance, he finally succumbed. His body went lax, and his breathing slowed. Without hesitation, she threw herself on her knees next to him, checking to make sure his breath was coming in a steady, even pace and his heart was still beating strongly in his chest. She had every bit of faith in her ability to brew safe potions, but that still hadn't stopped the terror at the moment Harry lost consciousness. After assuring herself that he was indeed well, she positioned him more comfortably on the bed, once again brushing his hair from his now closed eyes. On impulse she bent and placed one last soft kiss on his lips, then turned back to the tent's interior.

As her tears flowed, she waved her wand, collecting the few pieces of evidence of the happy couple that had once been. Her heart ached as she shunk each item, and carefully placed it in a box, then tucked it away inside her beaded bag. Once she finished she took one longing look at the sleeping man on the bed, and exited the tent. As the night air began to caress her skin, out of habit, she cast a silencing spell around herself and dropped to her knees. She finally allowed herself to break completely, as her brokenhearted screams went unheard in the bitter winter moonlight.


End file.
